Not surprised, thought Andreas. “What about the other one?”
“Clean.”
“This is clean, too,” said a cop getting out of the Suburban.
“Hold these two cuffed in a cruiser until the—” Andreas stopped himself. “Until this gentleman and I come back. Everybody else, thanks, and you can go now.”
He turned to the Protos. “Why all this cloak and dagger, engine running, open the door but don’t get out dramatics?”
The Protos shrugged. “Your office said you were on vacation, and your doorman said you were out but probably would be back sometime after lunch. I decided to wait for you here, and the driver kept the engine running for the air conditioner. You came back earlier than we expected and when we realized it was you, Sergey started to get out but I told him to wait until you were inside the building. I wanted our meeting to be private. I didn’t want to start a conversation on the street, but you surprised me when you sent your wife inside alone and drove off.”
Andreas shook his head. “All you had to do was return one of my calls. It would have saved me one hell of an explanation to my—” he paused again, “to Lila about why I rammed her car into yours.”
The Protos smiled. “Your explanation actually may be more difficult to make than the one I’ve come to deliver to you. Come, my son, lead the way and I shall explain many things.”
***
They were sitting in Lila’s study, looking out toward the Acropolis. Andreas, the Protos, and Lila.
“My son, I’m not sure this is appropriate for a woman to hear.”
“Your Holiness, in your house I respect your ways, in my home I must ask that you respect mine.”
“As you wish.” The Protos drew in and let out a deep breath. “I do not know where to begin. Not because I haven’t thought of what I am about to tell you, but because I don’t know where the beginning is.” He nodded for a moment, just staring out the window. “Vassilis was my dearest friend, going back to our days in school. He tried to warn me about the scourge we faced.” He turned to Andreas. “But you know all of that.” He let out another breath.
“The scourge is gone, or so it seems. He left his monastery Sunday morning, the moment its doors opened, and took a boat to Ouranoupolis. He borrowed a seaman’s clothes, left the man with all that linked him to life as a monk, and has not been seen since.”
“I assume you’re talking about Zacharias,” said Andreas.
The Protos nodded.
“Has he fled or is he dead?”
The Protos shrugged. “I have no idea. As long as he does not return we are blessed.”
“What about all those people he butchered in the Balkans?” It was Lila.
“His ultimate judgment is in the hands of God.”
Andreas hoped Lila would let the subject drop. He knew she had strong feelings on the subject of war criminals. Lila looked down at her nails and said nothing.
“So, Your Holiness, what does all this have to do with me?”
The Protos nodded. “You were our savior.”
Andreas looked at Lila, then back at the Protos. “That’s a bit much, isn’t it?”
The Protos shook his head. “No.” He looked back out the window. “When I realized who was behind this—”
“Why can’t you just say his real name, or at least call him Zacharias?” Lila sounded testy.
“Because, my child, that name was a monk’s name and this was not a monk in spirit, heart, or soul. He does not deserve to be addressed or spoken of with the same words as revere the memory of a man such as Kalogeros Vassilis. I cannot say his name and never shall. He destroyed much and came close to destroying all.”
“All?” Lila’s tone hadn’t changed.
“If who he was, and what he had done, became public, it would have inflicted irreparable wounds on the church.”
“You mean on the church’s current leaders.” Lila wouldn’t stop.
“I mean on the institution of the church. Its leaders did nothing wrong. We did not know his past, we saw a man gifted in bringing men together, working tirelessly without seeking glory, fame, or recognition for himself.” He paused. “Our error was that we never saw the devil among us. Only Vassilis recognized the false prophet.” His head sank to his chest. “And he died trying to warn us.”
The Protos looked up at Andreas. “When I realized what he was I knew we were not equipped to deal with someone of such horrible, ruthless cunning without dooming ourselves openly before the world. He had created a network of followers across our Holy Mountain more loyal to him than to their abbots, and in some cases the abbots themselves had fallen to him. It was an infection we could not treat until rid of the source. That was when I reached a decision. You were the only one who could free us of this scourge, but only if you believed you were being forced to let him escape, that the power of the government—and the church—would allow him to go on, that there would be no justice for his crimes.” He paused. “You have a thirst for vengeance and an ability to achieve it that I do not.”
Lila’s face was livid. “What you’re saying is that you used your influence to shut down the investigation to make it seem nothing would be done to Zacharias, just so you could deceive my…my unborn child’s father into risking his life to go after someone you wanted out of the way? Make him your own personal avenging angel? Or would you rather continue with your ‘savior’…?” She was glaring, but let the sentence trail off.
The Protos stared at Lila. His face was sad. “I don’t see it that way. I see your unborn child’s father as slaying the dragon of Satan. Something no one without sin could have done.”
Andreas wanted desperately to lighten the tone. “Now you’re calling me a sinner. I preferred the other titles.” He said it with a smile.
The Protos forced a smile. “You live in a world foreign to me, foreign to many both in and out of the church. We must rely upon others to protect us from the evil of that world, and to serve as judge when necessary—rendering the harshest of judgments at times, because it is the fair judgment and one that must be made. That is why I turned to you. To be our shield and our sword.”
“Sounds like a speech to the Crusaders,” Lila mumbled under her breath.
If the Protos heard her, he didn’t react. “Please, believe me when I say I am not here to do anything more than thank you for saving our church from certain tragedy, and for bringing the killers of my close friend to justice. I live amid a world that many think is…,” he seemed to be searching for a word, “unsoiled.”
Lila perked up, but did not interrupt.
“Whether or not I agree is not important, only that I realize no one from that world could have done what you did.”
“That was an interesting and, I must say, unusual word choice, Your Holiness,” said Lila.
The Protos smiled at her. “I’d thought you might grasp its meaning. You’re a very smart woman.”
“And a fan of anagrams.”
He stood.
“Now, there is only one more thing left to do.” The Protos reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cross. He waved it above their heads. “May the Lord bless you with long, healthy life and happy, healthy children. Make that ‘many happy, healthy children.’ Amen.”
Andreas said, “Amen.”
Lila nodded and said, “Thank you.”
“This is yours by the way.” The Protos handed Andreas the cross.
Andreas took it. “It’s not mine.”
“Yes, it is. It’s the one Vassilis wore all his life. It came from his father’s father. I know he would want you to have it, for you to pass on to the child of a new generation.”
Andreas stared at it. “Thank you, Your Holiness. I will treasure it always.”
“I know you will.” The Protos patted Andreas on the shoulder. “By the way, in case you wonder
how I came to have it, I asked a mutual friend on Patmos to pick it up for me from Abbot Christodoulos. Our friend said to say ‘thank you’ for convincing the abbot to let his building permit go through.”
Andreas was puzzled. “I don’t understand. I assume you’re talking about Dimitri, but I never spoke to the abbot about his permit.”
The Protos smiled. “I know, but we both know how much Dimitri likes to talk, and I’d rather have him publicly thanking you for that bit of meddling in another monastery’s internal affairs than me. I’m sure you agree Dimitri was entitled to that modest reward for all his assistance?”
Andreas nodded. Guess that answers who Dimitri worked for.
The Protos’ tone turned serious. “And that the abbot needed to be reminded that trusting the wrong sort, even innocently, has its consequences.”
I like this guy’s style, Andreas thought.
“Now, if you would please excuse me, I have a few things to explain to the Archbishop of Greece, who so kindly loaned me his driver and car for the day. And I think you have a few to explain as well.” He was smiling again.
On second thought…
Lila said, “What is he talking about?”
“I’ll tell you when I get back. I have to walk him out.”
He looked at the Protos. “Thanks for that,” then mouthed to him with a sarcastic look Lila could not see, “and I don’t mean for the cross.”
The Protos laughed. Probably for what must have been the first time in a very long time.
Chapter Twenty-four
“The operation was aborted.”
“What do you mean, ‘aborted’?” Vladimir’s temper flared.
“Things changed.”
Vladimir yelled into the phone. “Anatoly, I told you the cop must be eliminated. It was not a situation subject to change. How dare you make such a decision without consulting me?”
There was a long pause. “My old friend, I will permit you to speak to me that way this once, because I understand the pressure you are under. But do not forget what you asked me to do.”
Vladimir swallowed. He’d asked him to kill a man. Something Anatoly had arranged many times before—and could do again, should Vladimir push him too far. “Yes, I am under pressure.” It was as much of an apology as Vladimir was capable of giving.
“Good. Now let me tell you why the operation was terminated. Our man met Zacharias at Ouranoupolis.”
Anatoly is calling him “our” man, thought Vladimir. Once KGB, always KGB.
“At first our man thought him not worthy of further attention and planned to let him walk away. He seemed to have lost his old edge, even allowed our man to bully him into paying a ridiculous bribe. Then, just as our man was about to turn over the package, the true Butcher showed himself. He threatened to wipe our man’s seed off the earth and pulled a gun. But our man was prepared for the worst. The canister carrying the dioxin was equipped to flood a sixteen-square-foot area with an instantly debilitating gas at the press of a button. It took down both Zacharias and our man.”
Vladimir wasn’t interested in any of this. He wanted to know why the cop was still alive. But he dared not interrupt. He sensed Anatoly was dragging this out just to let him know that now he was in charge.
“Thankfully, comrades were hidden and watching from a nearby building. They carried both men to a waiting boat, administered the antidote to our man, and made rendezvous with a helicopter at sea. Zacharias awoke in Moscow.”
“Did he say anything?”
“Not at first.”
Vladimir didn’t have to ask what that meant.
“Ultimately, he told us everything.”
Vladimir couldn’t control himself. “Anatoly, stop with this. What did he say? Is there a problem?”
“Not for you, my friend.”
“Anatoly.” Vladimir’s frustration was patent.
“I just learned what happened myself. It took days to break him down. But, as I said, he broke.”
Vladimir realized that the more anxiety he showed the more likely Anatoly was to drag this out. It was a torture technique. Old ways never changed. He decided to say nothing and let Vladimir ramble on until his point was made. He’d make it, no doubt he would. It was a trait common to all apparatchiks, an irresistible urge to reinforce their personal illusions of power by revealing information they alone possessed.
“He has made you a hero, my friend.”
Vladimir held his tongue.
“The Butcher had followed the traditional route of many fleeing the world’s attention. He found a perfect place to hide until memories faded enough for him to acquire a different, less isolated exile elsewhere. But the Butcher could not resist his basic nature. He came to believe that God had chosen him to change the world. Whether his thinking was the product of mad, messianic delusions or a fundamentally evil soul, I do not know, nor do I care. What I do know is that he planned on killing the abbot of our Russian monastery on Mount Athos. Our leader’s favorite cleric.”
“My God.” Vladimir didn’t even realize he’d spoken.
“Well put. Our leader thinks of him as God’s emissary on earth today. He personally called to congratulate me for obtaining the information that saved his friend’s life. Of course, I told him it was you who actually was responsible for saving the abbot’s life.”
Yeah, I bet, Vladimir thought. I wonder if you even mentioned my name.
“Under the circumstances I thought it would be unwise to kill the policeman who passed on the information that saved the abbot’s life. Although Zacharias no longer is of concern to this world—the exact words of the order were, ‘Send that bastard back to his maker in Hell’—passions still are running high on how close he came to killing our abbot. We wouldn’t want someone thinking you were working with Zacharias as an accomplice and sought to murder the policeman and his family as revenge for exposing your friend and ally, the Balkan Butcher.”
Vladimir’s heart skipped three beats. Only two people on earth could validate that it was Vladimir who passed on the information. One was Anatoly, the other the Greek cop. He’d carefully kept all mention of his own name out of the original e-mail to Moscow. And his call to Anatoly ordering the immediate elimination of the cop—and the opening words of this conversation—were undoubtedly recorded by this snake, to be edited into who knows what form. Yes, Anatoly was telling him what could happen to him, and what would happen…unless—
“So, my dear friend, Vladimir, don’t you think all of this wonderful news is deserving of a reward? And certainly one far greater than you offered me to eliminate the one who saved the life of our leader’s spiritual guide?”
“How much?”
“How much is one of your many private jets or boats worth? Surely you do not need them all?”
Vladimir swallowed hard. “I will expect you personally to inform our leader in my presence that I am the one responsible for saving the abbot’s life.”
“Absolutely.”
“Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, my friend.” There was a tinge of harshness to the words.
Vladimir hung up, drew in and let out a deep breath. He’d been blackmailed before and no doubt would be again. That was the price of success in Russia. He looked at his watch. He thought to call Barbara in Athens. No, she said she would be at the hospital with her friend, the cop’s wife. The woman had just had a baby.
He shook his head as if tossing away all thoughts of what he’d planned to do to that family. I must send them a gift.
***
“He’s absolutely the most beautiful baby in the world.”
“Thank you, Maggie.” Lila was glowing.
“Frankly, I think he looks like Tassos,” said Kouros.
Tassos smiled. “That’s the blessing of having a Winston Churchill-like face. All babies look like you.”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“She wanted to go home tonight, but her parents insisted she stay the night. After all, the baby was only born this afternoon,” said Andreas.
“Parents. Forever protecting their children.” Lila stroked her baby’s forehead. “Now I understand.”
“Where are your parents?” asked Tassos.
“They left with my mother.” Andreas answered for her.
Lila’s eyes stayed on her baby. “They said they wanted to make room for our friends.”
“Maybe I should leave,” said Kouros.
“Don’t worry, there’s plenty of room. I’m only expecting one more. Barbara should be here any minute.”
Andreas glanced at Maggie.
“Oh, Chief, in all the excitement I forgot I have a message for you.” Maggie handed him a note.
the party finally returned to athens early this morning and swears nothing ever happened. you’ve been had. or rather, not.
Andreas stared at Maggie. “Is this for real?”
“Absolutely.”
“Is what for real?” asked Lila.
“Us.” Time to change the subject, thought Andreas. “I still don’t know what to make of yesterday.”
“Or what you made of my car.”
Andreas shrugged. “Sorry.”
Lila looked at the baby and smiled. “All is forgiven.”
“Pick a name yet?” asked Maggie.
“Andreas’ father’s name,” said Lila.
“Good choice.” Tassos smiled.
“What was it?” asked Kouros.
“Tassos,” said Maggie.
Kouros smiled. “Poor kid.”
Tassos smacked Kouros lightly on the back of his head. “So what happened yesterday that has you wondering?”
Andreas gave a quick version of the Protos’ visit. “All I know for sure is that this case is closed. Too many intrigues for my little cop mind to handle. Let the church sort out its own affairs.”
Prey on Patmos Page 24